


Weird Autumn

by ChilledLime



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassination Attempt(s), Bodyguard! Mark, Cuddling, Denial, Dream Sequences, Festivals, Flirty Ethan, Gun Violence, I don't want to spoil all of it, Inhuman! Ethan, Left purposely unknown for now, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, hand holding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChilledLime/pseuds/ChilledLime
Summary: “I’m sure you’re enthralled by my amazing interior decorating skills, but you don’t want to spend all day in one spot.” A voice spoke from behind him, its owner leaning against the wall, small dog at his feet, with the same stupid smile. “I know. Don’t tell me, I wasn’t what you were expecting?”“That isn’t a bad thing.” Mark recovered easily, stepping away and letting Ethan lead him into the living room.“I never said it was.”
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 39
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna write this all at once and then post it by chapters but mehhhhh. 
> 
> If you don't like slow updates I'd recommend waiting until this is finished bc my motivation hasn't been wonderful lately 
> 
> yes the title is a reference to NitW. go listen to the song and play the game it's a masterpiece

The house in front of him - despite what Mark had imagined - was rather plain. If he didn’t know better, he’d think a normal civilian lived in it. His earpiece hissed static before the familiar voice was back. 

_ “Have you arrived?”  _

“Yes.” Mark rocked on his heels, double-checking he had his gun and that the car was locked before heading to the door. Two sharp raps rang against the plaster, Mark stepping back and folding arms behind his back a moment later.

There was the faint sound of a dog barking from inside the house. 

His last assignment had gone well, so well in fact the ones up top decided he was fit for a bigger challenge. Politicians, celebrities, it was all like a children’s game to him now. When he was a rookie, they might have seemed intimidating; but he was long past that. He was pulled from his thoughts when a suspiciously normal looking man (boy?) opened the door. 

“You must be Mark?” He smiled lazily, pushing it wider. “Come in, you look like you’re about to get heatstroke in that suit.” 

_ This  _ was the man,  _ the  _ Ethan Nestor-Darling, such a high-profile assignment Mark had to go through countless background checks,  _ despite being a trusted bodyguard,  _ to get put onto? The person who had so many targets on his back, the last guard had quit out of stress?

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. 

Mark forced a smile, nodding along to what the other was saying as he stepped inside. The entryway was neatly decorated, prints rather than paintings framed on the walls. Nothing like the posh homes he’d stayed in before, eager to show off their gained wealth through expensive decor. This… it looked like someone added a second story to a college flat and called it home. 

“I’m sure you’re enthralled by my amazing interior decorating skills, but you don’t want to spend all day in one spot.” A voice spoke from behind him, its owner leaning against the wall, the small dog at his feet, with the same stupid smile. “I know. Don’t tell me, I wasn’t what you were expecting?” 

“That isn’t a bad thing.” Mark recovered easily, stepping away and letting Ethan lead him into the living room. 

“I never said it was,” 

“Fair.” 

They started up the stairs, the older man falling a step behind younger. “I prepared a guest room for you.” Ethan gestured to the room in front of him. “Since I’m assuming you won’t spend the entire night outside my door?” He let his voice trail off into a question, giving Mark an inquisitive look. 

“Not for all of it.” 

The boy raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. “How’re you gonna get sleep?” 

“I’ll live.” 

He was used to staying up long hours, depending on coffee after the first 24 hours to keep being functional. No assigned person had ever given a shit about his sleep schedule before, more concerned with their own well-being. It was strange.

Mark stood in the doorway of his now-current room, fingers resting on the wooden frame. It didn’t look cheap - although none of the house did, if he was being honest - just modest. A common theme for the place. 

“I hope you’ll end up using it sometime.” Ethan grinned, fingers taking hold of the fabric covering Mark’s elbow and pulling him along. “My bedroom is across the hall, you can see it from yours if you squint.” He motioned with his free hand to a dark room, “Here’s the upstairs bathroom.” 

Tugging Mark further down the hall, he stopped at a mostly closed door. “I do my work here.” He cocked his head to the side, looking at the room fondly. “It’s sort of my second bedroom, you’ll find I spend basically all of my free time in there.” 

Finally letting go of the older man’s elbow, Ethan took a step back. “That’s pretty much it. Besides the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom, anyway.” Mark took another quick glance around the small space, a small smile on his face. 

“Your house is a lot more home-y than any I’ve stayed in before.” 

Ethan licked his lips. “I’m not your average high profile person?” He pressed hands to his chest, feigning surprise. “I’m shocked Mark, really.” 

Not this again. 

“You’re putting on a front.” Mark stated bluntly, tugging his sleeve back down over his wrist. At the look on Ethan’s face, he spoke back up. “That’s normal. Everybody I’ve ever worked for does it.” 

The other’s expression softened a bit. “The last bodyguard didn’t seem to notice. Is there a certain way you want me to act around you?” 

“Normally would be best.” He shrugged, meeting Ethan’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve just seen this so many times before. I can best keep you safe if you’re just... yourself. I hope that doesn’t sound bad.” 

Ethan picked at the silver medical bracelet resting on his arm, a habit he didn’t seem to notice himself. “I’m glad you have my best interests at heart.” 

“It’s my job.” 

He motioned for Mark to follow him back down the stairs, sitting on the armchair of the couch. “Well, you’re already leagues ahead of the last one. You’ve got more personality,” The boy dug his nails into the plush, leaning forward slightly. “It’s all in your eyes.” 

It seemed Mark wasn’t the only one who knew how to read people.

“I can’t help but not be as comfortable around you as I would a friend right now,” Ethan frowned. “But if you’re nice, it’ll happen soon.” For the first time since they met, he seemed nervous. 

“Have others in the past not treated you well?” Mark’s eyes narrowed. 

“Not exactly. I felt like I was being watched like a hawk, constantly being told what I should or shouldn't do. They couldn’t stop me, obviously; but it was like being treated like a toddler twenty four-seven.” He swallowed, lips pulling into a tight line. 

A pang of sympathy bloomed in Mark’s chest as he walked over to Ethan, sitting down awkwardly on the couch next to him. “I swear to you I’ll be better than that. Bodyguarding isn’t being a second parent, I’m sorry the previous ones took it that way.”

“You promise?” 

It felt like they were schoolboys making promises on the swings - but he didn’t have the heart to deny Ethan. 

“I promise.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am slowly but surely working on under my skin, but I don't wanna rush the ending. so it's been slow
> 
> posting these chapters as I finish them, no schedule 
> 
> enjoy

As a day passed, Mark’s confusion only grew. 

Ethan was  _ extremely  _ normal, at least in terms of reasons he'd need a bodyguard. 

He wasn't a celebrity, he wasn't a government official, hell;  _ he didn't even have a classified job.  _ He helped edit videos and film student projects for people online. 

The boy was sitting in front of the TV on the floor, his dog - Spencer, Mark had been told - licking his face. Controller in hand, he was trying to move around Spencer's face so he could see the game he was trying to play. 

Mark sat on the couch behind Ethan, in slightly more casual wear than the suit and tie of yesterday. He watched with mild interest as Ethan navigated the controls easily, but kept most of his attention on their surroundings. 

Alarmed and locked windows, with the shades drawn mostly shut so only a sliver of light could creep into the room. The security system box by the hallway, door dead bolted and locked. It definitely wasn't the worst Mark had seen. 

"Mark?" 

He looked away from the door, giving Ethan a raised eyebrow. "Yeah?" 

"Let's go get lunch," The boy hummed, pressing a last kiss to Spencer's head before standing up and shutting off the console. "It's been a while since I've eaten out." 

They were tucked in a windowless booth near the back of the restaurant, Mark sitting on the side facing the rest of the establishment and Ethan across from him. 

After the older man had vehemently checked with the kitchen staff to make sure there weren't any peanut-related contaminations, Ethan had decided on an omelet; Mark with a coffee. 

"Do you even eat?" The boy joked, giving Mark a lopsided smile.

The man huffed from behind the cup, setting it down on the table. "Occasionally." 

Ethan twisted the plastic fork between his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’m not really in the mood for awkward silences today. Tell me about yourself?” His eyes darted around the room, occasionally meeting Mark’s for a split second. “-If you want, anyway.” 

Mark ran his thumb over the tan biodegradable material of the cup, trying to think of something he actually  _ could  _ tell Ethan. His private life wasn't to be shared with pretty much anyone, save for a few trusted friends also in the business. 

Sensing his hesitation, the boy added: "Right. Privacy… How about I ask questions instead? And you can just avoid whatever you can't answer." 

"That sounds good." 

"Okay, uh- you like dogs, right?” 

Mark laughed quietly, nodding. "Definitely. I wish I could have one now, but I move around too much." 

"Oh, good. I was afraid we'd have a conflict of interests." Ethan grinned, taking another bite of his food. "I can't imagine not having Spence to keep me company. But I guess that makes sense. You probably don't even have a house, do you?" 

"I have a residence, but I don't use it often." He dismissed, sipping on the last drops of the coffee. "I enjoy seeing people's pets when I work for them, though; always brings out the best in them." 

Ethan's smile softened, giving Mark a more genuine look. "Yeah. Is it hard constantly moving places? The other ones never mentioned if it was." 

"Sometimes. I try not to get too attached to the place, even if I'm going to be there for a while. Like yours." Mark set the empty cup near the edge of the table, lacing his fingers together. 

The boy nodded, shoe brushing Mark's momentarily. "Y'know, I didn't even really want a bodyguard." 

"Oh?" 

"They sort of insisted I take one, even though I can handle those things myself." Ethan shrugged. "I think I've had five before you. Some of them blend together in the black suits and stoic behavior." 

His foot was back on Mark’s, a constant and slightly unnerving presence. He hadn’t quite figured out if Ethan was normally touchy like that or not. 

Opting to ignore it, he replied: “That makes sense, you’d probably hate the larger meetings we have.”

Sliding his now-empty plate next to Mark’s similarly empty cup, the boy met his eyes again, with less emotion in them than before; as if he had purposely tucked them back away.

“I probably would.” 

Stepping out of the building, Mark let himself glance over at Ethan, who was fiddling with the receipt hanging out of his pocket. “I-I don’t do this often, stop looking at me like that!” He squeaked, finally shoving the rest of the translucent paper into his jeans. 

He didn’t reply, almost brushing shoulders with the boy as they walked up to the car. Taking one last look around the area, he unlocked the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat; Ethan following a moment later. Seatbelt clicking broke the silence of the car as Mark imputed the directions into the dash and started driving. 

Mark’s car was a well-loved black Audi, with heavily tinted windows and countless security measures littered around the interior. Although it was company issued, the thing was basically his home. Ethan’s car was.. not up to Mark’s standards, to say the least. When the boy took one look at the inside, he had hastily agreed that they should use it. The older man was confident nothing would happen to Ethan while they were inside.

As they pulled up to the house, Mark felt a tug on his arm from where it was resting on the center console. When he put it in park, he turned to look at Ethan. “What’s up?”

The boy’s eyes flicked to the outside of the passenger seat’s windows, betraying his seemingly relaxed demeanor. “Maa-ark,” He hummed, tugging on the cuff again. “There’s someone in the bushes-” Ethan said quietly, making a face that looked like he was telling a joke. 

Mark’s eyebrows flew up, and he fake laughed in response to Ethan’s hypothetical jest. “How the hell did you notice that? Okay- no, tell me later. Let’s get you inside and I’ll call someone who’ll take care of it.” The hand released from his sleeve, letting the older man get out of the car and walk over to the other side. 

Sure enough, about a yard away in a neighbors bushes was the bottom of shoes just slightly peeking out from under the foliage. Mark didn’t let himself linger, tugging open the door and standing behind the boy.

Pressing a hand to the small of Ethan’s back, he took them up to the porch, taking the offered keys and letting them inside the house. As soon as the door was shut, Mark pushed the deadbolts into place. 

“I told you I could handle it.” 

He turned to look at Ethan, who was hanging up his coat onto the hook nonchalantly. 

“If you had stepped out by yourself, you’d probably have gotten shot.”

The boy shrugged, watching as Mark pulled out his phone. “Maybe.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my art motivation has gone up and as such my writing motivation has drooped.

After the wannabe-assassin had been taken care of, and they could open the blinds a little, Ethan went back to playing where he had left off in his video game like nothing had happened. He was curled up in the couch's corner, controller sitting on his drawn-up knees as he stared at the screen. Spencer was sleeping in his dog bed near the tv, occasionally stretching or shifting in the plush. 

All was well. The tension that normally lingered in houses after an attempted murder wasn’t present, to the surprise of Mark. Ethan had easily brushed off his concerns, changing into a different hoodie and softer pants like it was just any other day. 

Mark was finishing up a general check of the downstairs, poking and prodding at anything that looked suspicious. Not finding anything that raised any alarms, he walked back over to the couch and sat down on the other side. Ethan gave a hum in acknowledgement, but didn’t tear his eyes from the monitor. 

Against his better judgement, the older man spoke up. 

“How… often does that typically happen?”

"Oh, maybe once every week?" Ethan shrugged. "I don't keep track." 

His mouth hung open a little as he stared at the boy, mind moving a million miles a second. "How the fuck? You're so- normal!" Mark exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly. "Who the hell did you piss off man?" 

A smile crept onto Ethan's face, and he paused the game, turning to glance at Mark with unreadable eyes. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." With a wink, he continued playing like nothing had happened.

Ethan was certainly an enigma. 

* * *

Afternoon bled into evening, the boy had migrated up into his office, snagging a few snacks so he wouldn’t have to come down as often. Mark had watched the scene with mild confusion, as Ethan rounded up a bag of chips, some dip, and various other small food items. 

“Can’t you just come back down to get more when you’re hungry?”

Ethan had just given him a blank stare and shrugged, bundling up the food in his arms. “Why would I do that?” 

Now they sat, Mark on the couch a few feet away and Ethan at his desk. The rig was expensive looking, with colorful LED’s illuminating the keyboard and a computer that definitely cost a grand or two. The boy was furiously typing away; the clicks being the only noise filling the room. 

When he was confident that the room was safe enough, he had relaxed a little and pulled out his phone. 

**7:21 PM | Amy:** How’s the new gig goin?

**7:22 PM | Mark:** Well enough

Mark glanced over at the now slightly more relaxed Ethan, clicking incessantly at the mouse. 

**7:24 PM | Mark:** Guy’s almost the opposite of weird 

Amy was one of the few people he could share a decent amount of information with, seeing as she welcomed him into the business, and she just as trusted as she was. 

**7:29 PM | Amy:** Yeah? Is he just as stuck up as everybody said?

**7:30 PM | Mark:** Definitely not. 

Stuck up was the last adjective on Mark's mind when he thought of the boy. Normal, endearing, sweet,  _ cu- _

His grip tightened on the phone, the rim digging into tan skin. 

**7:33 PM | Mark:** He's just

**7:34 PM | Mark:** Very normal. It's jarring. 

**7:36 PM | Amy:** Damn you got lucky 

**7:37 PM | Amy:** My next assignment is gonna be a fuckin piece of work 

**7:39 PM | Mark:** Hopefully they aren't too bad 

**7:40 PM: | Amy:** I'll be fine, don't worry abt me. How is he? 

**7:41 PM: | Mark:** He's nice. Outside of the job I could probably see myself being friends with him, if circumstances aligned 

**7:43 PM: | Amy:** Yeah? I'm glad you finally got someone you actually like

His eyes drifted over to Ethan, the other not noticing his stare. Mark's face felt just a little too hot for comfort. 

**7:45 PM: | Amy:** ;) 

He didn't want to know what that meant. 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you on your phone for over two seconds,” The boy remarked, moving away from his desk and facing Mark. “You actually have a social life?”

“Occasionally,” He shrugged, clicking it into sleep mode. “What’s it to you?”

“It makes you seem like a-” Ethan waved his hand in Mark’s general direction, “-Like a normal person. I like it.” 

Now Mark didn’t break often. But the way Ethan was looking at him, with some confusing combination of fondness-and-maybe-flirtation, it made him want to squirm. (Why? He wasn’t sure.)

The boy’s smile tilted upward, eyes crinkling. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mention it. Here, how about you come help me with this part?”

“Why would you possibly need my help? I’m not-” He looked at the colorful computer display. “-not really a tech genius.” 

Ethan rolled his eyes, rolling the chair over and tugging Mark off of the couch. “C’mon, it’ll be fine. I just need somebody else's eyes, I feel like I’ve been staring at this for hours.” He ushered the older man over to the desk, so he was bent over Ethan’s shoulders, squinting at the slightly too bright screen. 

“Here.” He pressed the play button, looking tiredly as the video clip was set in motion. “I think it looks fine, but something’s missing. What d’you think?” 

Mark pursed his lips, reaching over and covering Ethan’s hand with his on the mouse. “Can I?”

“Go ahead,”

He fiddled with one of the elements, Ethan mumbling quiet directions so he didn't _ completely  _ mess up what was being worked on. 

After a few minutes, Mark was satisfied, hitting the play button again. The boy hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against Mark’s chest. “That’s better, thank you.” 

The older man shrugged, removing himself from Ethan’s space. “It’s no problem,” 

Pale hands traced swirling patterns into the soft material of the mouse. “You picked that up really fast.” He cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to let you work on your own projects- if you want, anyway. I don’t know your hobbies.” 

Mark looked between the screen and Ethan’s face, hands ghosting where his palm had touched the other’s. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, that’d be nice.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hit with motivation

After a few more hours of working, Ethan had moved to the couch next to Mark, mentioning how the computer was free if he wanted to use it. 

Their proximity made the older man’s heart beat just a little too fast, and he had jumped at the opportunity to get  _ away.  _ Not from Ethan necessarily, just his feelings. The boy’s eyes had glinted as he stretched out where Mark used to be, commenting to say if he needed help. 

He hadn’t realized it until he had sat down on the plush red chair, that the fact Ethan was just  _ letting  _ him into his computer. Sure, he had left the editing software in a gesture that assumed he would only use it; but Mark could easily get into probably (?) important documents. 

Or not. The boy didn’t seem to have any jobs outside of editing, let alone anything that would have high-profile or classified information. 

Mark could feel the occasional gaze linger on his frame as he messed around with the footage. It was simple stock footage of a forest, definitely used for those who were new to the software. 

It was cathartic to just sit and mess around with the endless features, slowly but surely figuring them out. 

“Ethan?”

“Hm?”

“What’s the feature you used to do the- the,” He made a hand gesture, not exactly knowing how to articulate what he had seen on the screen earlier.

The boy moved back over to the computer, looking at the screen with interest. “The video overlay?”

“I think so.”

“Here-” He put his hand next to Mark’s, guiding it to the option he was looking for. “Was that it?”

He nodded, satisfied. “Yeah, thank you.”

Hours seemingly passed in a blur, the last rays of the sun dipping over the horizon, taking the brightness of the sky with it. The tiredness in his bones was easily ignorable when he was doing something else, so he kept himself busy. 

* * *

"Mark." Ethan's voice was sharp, but something like concern seeping into his tone. "When's the last time you slept?" 

The question repeated itself in his head, brain only slightly foggy from lack of rest. Mark shrugged. "The night before I came here?" 

He clicked another element into place, hearing as Ethan shuffled off of the couch and over to him. "You need to sleep." 

"I will eventually." 

"That's not- no, I'm not letting you go another whole day without at least taking a nap." 

The chair was being pulled away from the monitor, turning so he was facing Ethan. The other had a hand still on the back of the chair, leaning slightly over Mark. "What're you doing? I'm fine, I'll be fine-" 

"Mark." His voice grew steely, the arm over his shoulder seeming less like a lingering touch and more like a way to box him in. "I don't give a shit about your self-imposed sleep habits. When you're here with me, you're going to sleep." 

"Now?" The older man quietly responded. He was  _ definitely  _ not used to one of his assignments caring to this degree. He couldn't wrap his head around why. His functioning wasn't too badly impaired yet. He had coffee. Why did it matter?

"Now." Ethan's hand moved to Mark's shoulder, tugging him out of the chair. When he wobbled slightly, the arm slid snug around his waist; like it was meant to be there. The boy led them out of his computer room, ignoring the still-on screen, shutting the door with his foot. 

He stopped them in front of Mark's appointed guest room, Ethan looking expectantly at Mark.

"I can't- what if something happens?" 

"You can see my room from your bed," 

The older man shook his head, leaning just a little more against Ethan's side. "N-" His sentence cut off on its own, voice dying in his throat. Maybe he was a little more tired than he thought.

"Alright, okay, I didn't think you'd actually be up for it." He changed directions, and only a few moments later they were standing in Ethan's dark room. Letting go of Mark's waist, he gently nudged the man onto his bed. "Sleep. I'll be here soon." 

Through bleary vision, Mark watched as Ethan disappeared back into his office. After tugging off his jeans and throwing them to god-knows-where, his eyes shut on their own accord, and he buried himself in the heavy duvet and sheets.

They were silky but warm, and easy enough to cocoon in. It didn’t register to him at that moment that he was  _ literally  _ sleeping in Ethan’s bed, only that it was warm, and that the boy would be back soon. 

A few minutes later, quiet footsteps entered the room, the mattress dipping beside him as Ethan covered up. “You still awake there?” 

He forced himself to nod, stretching his legs out under the sheets. His hand reached out, grabby - although he wasn't sure why. 

A gentle laugh, before a hand fit itself comfortably in his own, squeezing tan skin. The body next to him shifted a little closer, nudging their legs together. Mark only moved closer, their interlocked hands basically discarded as Ethan’s free arm regained its place on the other’s waist. 

Mark could barely register that he could feel Ethan’s soft puffs of breath, or that they were cuddling. All he could think about was  _ Ethan.  _ It was intoxicating, almost suffocating. It made his head spin more than it already was.  _ These  _ were the budding start to concerning feelings he had been pushing down, since the moment the boy had opened up about those that had taken Mark’s place before. He couldn’t fall in love with a client. He couldn’t. 

But he would not move away now - he could be rational whenever he woke up again. 

Something about him was different, uncanny; but not really in a bad way. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made him think that, though. 

Maybe he was just tired.

The boy in question spoke up, a gentle murmur in the silence. "Better?" 

He made a quiet grumble, tossing his leg over Ethan’s and tugging it near. "Better." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> symbolism is sexy

_ Footsteps echoed along the ruined floor, a loud echo filling the stifling quiet. Mark wasn’t sure if they were his own, or something else’s. _

_ The dark expanse surrounding him, aside from the faint vision of the stones beneath, felt both empty and alive. _

_ Where was he? _

_ Reaching out his hands, he searched for something to grasp onto, anything to anchor himself and keep him from falling. Falling to where?  _

_ He didn’t even know where he was going. _

_ An ever-present nagging in his chest, a phrase repeating in his brain.  _

_ He had to keep going. The destination, while unknown, didn’t matter. _

_ Rock. A smooth stone, finally resting on his fingertips. His other hand quickly followed, pressing what he thought was his body against the wall. The surrounding void seemed to creep ever closer, like a predator stalking its prey.  _

_ Using the wall as a guide, he kept walking.  _

_ Although it started off smooth, like polished granite, that was quickly discarded, replaced with carvings.  _

_ Runes? _

_ Mark ran his hand along the sharp indentations, trying to make any sense of them. It wasn’t any language he knew.  _

_ The etching seemed to stretch for miles, as he ventured into the emptiness. The more of it he felt, the more unnerved he felt; like he shouldn’t be feeling them at all.  _

_ He didn’t belong here.  _

_ A sinking feeling.  _

_ Looking in what direction he assumed was forward, Mark was met with a palace, ruined with what could only be assumed to time. Dark, dead vines sprouted from cracks in the material, snaking along the stone.  _

_ It called to him.  _

_ Was this where he was supposed to be? _

_ The entrance beckoned to him, luring him inside the room; whatever darkness on the outside quickly forgotten.  _

_ When Mark stepped further inside, he turned back around. _

_ The door was gone.  _

_ No matter. _

_ A light, not a beam but a glow, coming from the center of the room.  _

_ The closer he stepped, the more it lit up, revealing the contents of the walls inside.  _

_ Runes and etchings, images of people and places that had never been, and would never be. The light guided his eyes as they lingered on the drawings.  _

_ Why? _

_ The light flickered, making a slow blinking glow.  _

_ Then he saw it.  _

_ A pair of illuminated dots in the doorway ahead of him.  _

_ Run, run, run, run! _

_ But he couldn’t move.  _

_ Its blurry shape shifted closer, outlines fuzzing when he tried to make sense of it.  _

_ In front of him.  _

_ The eyes seemed to bore into him, a curious gaze.  _

_ Everything in him screamed to flee, out of the place and back into the void he had feared just a while ago; an almost primal instinct. _

_ A hand? _

_ It reached towards him, close enough to his arm that their shapes faded together. _

* * *

The bed was empty. 

Any heat that had been left behind from its owner was long gone, leaving Mark feeling slightly sweaty and alone. Pushing the sheets off of himself, he brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen in his face. 

Fragments of the dream shifted around in his head, waiting for him to indulge in them and keep from fading away. 

Normally his dreams were weird, maybe a bit colorful; a pleasant contrast from his waking world. But that? It was just odd. 

A pair of his clothes, decidedly  _ not _ his own, sat neatly folded on the nightstand on the side he had slept on. 

Right. 

That. 

It wasn’t  _ embarrassing,  _ mostly; although he wished he had been the one to wake up first.

Best to ignore it. 

Quickly changing into the clothes, Mark tried desperately not to think about who they belonged to, or how the sleeves of the shirt were just slightly too tight. 

“Oh! Morning,” Ethan hummed as Mark trudged down the stairs. “I- uh,” The boy’s face flushed red as he turned away, back to the almost-empty bowl of cereal. “You didn’t really bring any extras besides one change of clothes? I didn’t notice that before. Hopefully those’ll work for now.” 

He shrugged, walking over to the window and peeking through the blinds. “Yeah, they’re fine. I normally just stop by the apartment when I end up resting.” 

“Y’wanna do that today? I have nothing better planned.” 

Mark looked back at Ethan, letting himself watch for a moment. “Sure. There really isn’t anything interesting there, it’s mostly just storage. But I’m not leaving you at home.” 

The boy stood up, putting his empty bowl in the sink. He flashed a grin at Mark, leaning against the appliance. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

"It's my job." 

Ethan waved a hand dismissively, moving over to the couch and draping himself across it. "Whatever you say. I'm gonna game for a while, let me know when you're ready to leave." 

Mark nodded, seating himself next to the armchair and retrieving his phone from where he had hastily shoved it in the pockets of Ethan’s jeans. A few unread text messages flashed on his lockscreen.

**11:49 PM | Amy:** Is his place livable? 

**2:29 AM | Amy:** Ohh did you sleep? 

**2:30 AM | Amy:** Correction, did he make you sleep? 

**2:32 AM | Amy:** He did, huh :) 

**10:23 AM | Mark:** Unfortunately. 

She responded a few minutes later. 

**10:34 AM | Amy:** Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing, Mark

**10:36 AM | Amy:** I’m glad he’s taking care of you

**10:39 AM | Mark:** It should be the other way around

**10:43 AM | Amy:** Doesn’t have to be that way all the time. It’s good somebody isn’t just taking your masochistic tendencies for once 

**10:45 AM | Mark:** They’re not masochistic, I’m just committed. 

**10:48 AM | Amy:** We both know that’s not true. 

**10:49 AM | Amy:** Gotta get back to working, text you later :P

Putting his phone back away, Mark looked over to Ethan, who seemed to be in his own little world. “I’m ready now, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, gime a moment.” He paused what he was doing, quitting the game and shutting off the console. 

The drive over was quiet, whatever tension from the night before rearing its head, leaving neither wanting to say the wrong thing.

* * *

“Man, you weren’t kidding when you said this place doesn’t get lived in much.” Ethan pressed his finger against the coffee table, dragging it through the thin layer of dust and grimacing. 

“Yeah,” Mark came out from the bedroom, carrying a small pile of clothes in his arms. “I’d honestly rather have a storage locker. This place-” He stopped to look around. It looked like an average apartment, save for the dust and the lack of personal items or decor. “It’s almost too much work to be worth it.” 

The boy tilted his head, wiping the dust off onto his sweatpants. “I guess that’s understandable. But it’s good to have, just in case, right?” 

“Meh.”

A pause.

“Do you.. have anything you want to bring back?” Ethan glanced around at the tabletops and walls, void of any personality. “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Maybe a few more clothes?” He shrugged. “You shouldn’t have to spend all your time in fancy black suits or slightly less fancy black button ups, especially in your temporary home.” 

Mark bit his lip, rubbing his palm against the fabric of the clothes far too similar to what the other had spoken about. The boy wasn’t  _ wrong,  _ but it still hit a little harder than he had probably intended. “You think?”

Ethan’s expression softened, and he walked over, taking the garments out of Mark’s willing hands. “Of course. I’ll hold on to these, why don’t you go get some more comfortable things.” 

He still looked hesitant, shoving the now-free hands into his pockets. He figured that his clients would prefer him to look professional, no matter the time of day or how long he was staying for. The ‘normal’ clothes were reserved for when he was in between jobs. “I dunno. I’m still always technically on the job, wouldn’t that be weird?”

“You can relax sometimes, Mark.” 

“....Right.”

Turning back around, Mark disappeared back into the room.

It was mostly empty, just like the rest of the house. The bed sat in the middle of the space, neatly made. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually used it. Opening the closet back up, he picked out a few of his favorite hoodies, some pairs of comfortable pants, and a tank top. If he needed more - which was unlikely - he could always go back.

When Mark came back out again, Ethan nodded his head towards a cardboard box by the door. “I put the stuff you gave me in there, so you wouldn’t have to carry all of it.” 

“Thanks, Ethan.” He murmured, setting the remaining clothes inside and picking it up. “Ready to go?” 

He wasn’t sure why he was asking. The boy had nothing of use there, anyway. 

“Yeah, wanna stop for a late-lunch or early dinner on the way back?” Ethan opened the door, letting Mark exit first after he had taken one last look around. 

With a smile far too genuine for his liking, he replied: “Sure, why not.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah

Spencer’s claws quietly clicked against the sidewalk, trotting happily in front of the pair. The air was dry and slightly chilled, sun not having fully risen into the sky. 

Ethan pulled his beanie a little farther down his forehead with his free hand, before quickly stuffing it back into the pocket it had been in before. “Fuckin’ cold out here man.” He murmured, watching as Spencer stopped to sniff a patch of grass. 

Mark nodded, glancing at the boy beside him. “Not used to it?” 

Although he didn’t normally come out this early in the morning, the temperatures were still mild in comparison to the autumns and winters back in his hometown. 

“Not anymore,” He shrugged, letting his grip on the leash loosen when the dog moved closer to his side. “It’s a nice change from the hot humidity in the afternoons, though. Plus there’s rarely anybody out at this hour.” 

When Ethan had come to him and said they were going out for a walk, bright and early at 5:30 am, Mark had discovered the other was  _ much  _ more of a morning person than he was. Even though he hadn’t slept the previous night, he still enjoyed spending the long mornings sipping on coffee and staring at his phone.

“Thankfully.” 

They had taken a longer route, through a slightly more nature filled part of town. Mark was slightly appalled when Ethan mentioned doing the walk alone many times before. 

Sometimes he wondered if he actually wanted to die. 

“Don’t make that face,” The boy huffed, nudging Mark’s shoulder. “I know you’re thinking about how much danger you think I put myself in. I told you, I’m fine.” 

He grimaced, looking around at the empty streets and sidewalks. “I can’t help but worry, Eth.” The nickname slipped out without a second thought, causing Mark to sputter out a correction. “E-Ethan, sorry.” He could tell by the heat that his face was beet red, a stark contrast to his normally unbothered behaviour.

"It's fine, Mark." A chilled hand fit itself into his, tugging him along to keep pace with an increasingly-faster walking Spencer. "I don't mind." Ethan motioned to their conjoined hands. "See?" 

"I-" He squeezed the other's palm in an attempt to calm himself down. "It's unprofessional." 

Mark wasn't sure if he was talking about the nickname or something else. 

"Doesn't have to be." Ethan dismissed. "No one's going to know either way." 

"How do you know that?" The older man murmured. Lying on his reports wasn't off the table, but there could always be others that notice. 

Eyes flicked to his, down to his lips, and back again. He looked oddly melancholic. "I'll make sure of it."

"Wh-" 

Ethan smiled, looking back at the walkway ahead of them. "Just trust me, okay? We don't have to-" He swallowed. "Do anything, if you don't want. If you feel like I'm pressuring you, I'll back off. But you don't have to worry about losing your job, no matter what." 

Mark shifted a little closer to the boy, but didn’t let go of his hand. “Alright.. I’ve never-” He ran a hand through his hair, roughing it up. “Done anything like this before.”

“That’s okay.” Ethan hummed, “I think you’re nice. Whatever you want, is good with me.” 

“Really?” He laughed a bit, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. “I- I don’t think I’m very-” 

“Nice? Of course you are, don’t discredit yourself.” He dragged his thumb along Mark’s knuckles. 

Not knowing what else to say, the older man just kept walking alongside Ethan, letting his eyes wander from Spencer, to the trees, whatever caught his eye. He had never been one to closely examine his feelings, just letting them sit until they sorted themselves out or left. 

It had been easier before, when those things didn’t affect his livelihood and job.

Mark  _ knew  _ he should be more worried than he was. But there was something about the way Ethan had basically promised that he’d keep his position that soothed the anxiety that was prone to flaring in his gut. He wasn’t sure  _ how  _ the boy could make sure of that, although it could be examined at a later date. 

Right then, walking hand in hand in the morning air, nothing else really mattered.

“Oh yeah,” Ethan hummed, “I’ve seen a few flyers around about a fall festival that started a few days ago. I haven’t looked into it much, but I think it could be fun. What'd you think if we went?”

“Hmm..” He thought for a moment. “I haven’t been to one in a long time, and certainly not any here in L.A. Are they anything like the midwestern ones?” 

His eyes crinkled as he giggled, shoulders gently bobbing up and down. “I’m assuming so. If we don’t like it, we can always leave. It’d be a nice change of pace from the monotonous wake up, eat, edit, sleep, y’know?” 

Mark nodded, gripping Ethan’s hand a little tighter. He hadn’t noticed before, but the fact that they, as a pair, were being referred to as  _ we,  _ made his heart beat just a little too fast. 

The last time he had ever done anything remotely close to dating was before he had picked up the job, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he was being freely given such affections now. 

“Yeah, did you have an idea of when you wanted to go?” 

“Maybe sometime today?” Ethan nodded towards the almost-risen sun. “Since it’s so early in the morning, we basically have all the time until sunset, if it even closes then.”

Mark brushed his shoulder against Ethan’s, tentatively testing out the boundaries of contact. “Good thing we’re almost back, then.” 

The rest of the way home was quiet, the heat of the sun beginning to warm their backs. 

* * *

“Here, hold on- hold still for a moment!” The boy laughed, reaching over and adjusting the beanie he had put on Mark’s head, so it wasn’t covering the man’s eyes. “You’ve really never worn one of these before?” 

He shook his head, pushing a few strands of hair back under the fabric. “No?”

“That’s a shame. You look great in them.” Ethan hummed, turning back to the pile of clothes. He had brought up the casual garments taken from the house, insisting that Mark change into something ‘less secret agent-y’ so that he could ‘maybe have fun for once and not think all about his job’ 

Mark didn’t really understand, but when Ethan was looking at him like  _ that,  _ how could he object? 

“How about… this.” He pulled out a pale orange hoodie, turning around and holding it up in front of Mark. “I think it matches nicely, but we could always choose somethin’ else. You like?” 

He took it in his own hands, tugging off the previous hoodie they had tried and pulling it on. Looking at himself in the mirror behind them, he replied: “I like it. You think this is casual enough?” 

Ethan’s eyes trailed down his frame, seeming more analytical than anything else. “You almost look like a normal guy, if I didn’t know better I’d never think twice.” With one last look in Mark’s direction, he took the remaining clothes and left to put them away. “Why don’t you go head downstairs, I’ll meet you in a second!”

Left to his own devices, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were moving too fast; even though they hadn’t really  _ done  _ anything. It didn’t feel overwhelming, or too much, but he wasn’t too sure of his own feelings. It was easier to ignore the oddness in the sheer  _ normality _ that was Ethan when he was caught up in emotions. 

As he headed down, he almost kicked himself for being so open _. Ethan was a client, for heaven's sake!  _ Mark shouldn’t be doing anything close to what had happened in between them the past few days. 

But a part of him knew they couldn’t go back if they wanted to. 

Sitting down at the table, he twisted his hands into the dense fabric of the hoodie. What were they doing?

His heart felt like it was stuck in a vice. 

Ethan was sweet, kind, far too excusing of his unprofessionalism. He was cute, (a thing Mark could finally admit to himself) nervous, and just seeming to be trying his best. Average in a way he shouldn’t have needed to meet Mark in the first place. 

His grip loosened on his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles with slightly glassy eyes. 

Footsteps echoed, the boy plaguing his thoughts coming into view a minute later. “I think I have everything ready for the day. Money, keys, charged phone,” He listed off the things - seemingly to himself - as he pointed to them on various parts of his body. “-Are you?” He looked back to Mark. 

“Yeah,” He had everything he might need hidden beneath the baggy material, just in case. “Question?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’ve asked this before, but-” Mark shrugged, standing up. “Why’d you need me in the first place? I mean, why are there so many people after you?”

He shouldn’t be bringing that up. He wasn’t entitled to that information. 

But he still wanted to know. 

Ethan’s face flushed red, an embarrassed expression on his face. “O-Oh, uh-” Striding over to Mark, he grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the door. “I’ll tell you later, let's just get going.” 

“Wait- no, Ethan, hold  _ on-”  _ He tugged the boy back from the open door, guilt creeping up his spine. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, okay? I shouldn’t have asked, you don’t have to tell me.” 

The boy fidgeted with the sleeve he had taken hold of, not meeting Mark’s eyes. “N-No, Mark, it’s okay. I just- I feel-” 

The older man made in inquisitive noise, mouth parted into a small ‘o’ “You feel what?” 

“I don’t know why I feel so  _ bad.  _ It was funny at first… it’s not anymore. I want to tell you, I promise. Later, though.” He regained his composure, letting go of the fabric and stepping back, smiling a bit. “We have a festival to get to.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for very vague knife and gun violence  
> skip down from when they go into the steel room until the - if you want to avoid it (but it does have plot stuff so)

The sounds of children yelling and people talking blurred together as they walked down the main pathway, gravel crunching underneath their feet. It would be overwhelming, if Mark wasn’t used to screaming masses. 

At least they weren’t crowding around _them._

His outfit helped prevent people from staring too long, eyes sliding away as they noticed nothing out of the ordinary from a couple going to the fair. 

Ethan’s shoulder brushed his own almost constantly, as he veered away from people running in front of the path, or up towards the closest attraction. Despite still being somewhat early in the morning, the walkways were bright with activity. 

“You think it’ll get more crowded in the afternoon?” The boy hummed, slightly louder than normal so Mark could hear him. 

He nodded. “Definitely. You’ve never been to one before?” Ethan had said it like the fair was a new experience for him. 

“Maybe I haven’t, so what.” He murmured, fingers brushing the back of Mark’s hand. “Oh!” Expression brightening, he motioned to a large tent-like building up ahead. “H.. Haunted house?” Squinting, Ethan struggled to read the words from so far away. 

“Looks like it,” Mark shrugged. “I didn’t bring my glasses. You wanna check it out?” 

“Hell yeah,” Ethan grinned, grabbing the cuff of the older man’s sleeve and pulling them closer. 

Dark blue clashed with the bright, almost neon-colors decorating the front of the attraction. It didn’t look very inviting, but the boy tugged him up to the entrance, and into the short line outside of the open door. 

“So how do these work?” He asked, shooting Mark a warm smile. “It looks fun.”

He found himself explaining the concept of a haunted house as the line slowly grew shorter and shorter, until eventually they were one person away from the ticket-handler. 

Ethan handed them enough money for two tickets, taking the small papers and turning them through his fingers. “Fun texture.” 

Mark gently prodded him inside, into the small enclosed area. A tall man was standing at the second entrance, taking tickets and making smalltalk with the few others around waiting patiently. 

Looking at the stopwatch, his lips twitched, calling out the next group a few moments later. A gang of teenagers rushed over, eagerly handing over their passes and heading into the dark. 

Turning to the pair, he glanced down at the tickets, before stuffing them into a bag with the fair's logo stamped on top. 

"This place is safe, right?" Mark asked, ignoring the annoyed stare he could feel from Ethan on his back. It was worth a shot to ask. 

The man quirked an eyebrow, huffing out a laugh. "Safe as any other attraction here. Why do you ask?" 

"Mark," Ethan hissed, stepping in front and plastering on a smile. "I'm sorry about him, he's had issues in the past." 

He shrugged, taking out the watch and staring at it. "No worries. Your guy's turn is almost ready." 

Ethan eagerly handed over the tickets, letting Mark follow him through the door when it was opened. 

"Have fun!" He spoke, voice slightly muffled as it shut behind. 

The first room was themed to a graveyard, with fog machines quietly droning on in the background. Large, plastic graves sat littered among fake browned grass. A lantern hanging on a distant metal pole was the only lighting, barely illuminating the ground a few feet in front of them. 

Mark stood protectively behind Ethan, occasionally brushing against his back as he looked around wide-eyed. It was true he wasn’t very reassured at the man’s previous words, but wasn’t shocked he didn’t have a good answer. It was a fair, a barely regulated gathering. 

It was Ethan’s choice, however much he worried and disagreed with it. 

"Psst," He nudged Mark's chest with his elbow, before pointing to a seemingly empty part of the wall, shrouded in darkness. "There's a person behind there." 

The older man rolled his eyes, encouraging Ethan to keep moving. "You're spoiling the fun of it, Eth."

Looking back at him, Ethan tilted his head. "Really?" 

"Yeah, it's supposed to scare you." 

"Oh." 

As the pair walked past the place Ethan had pointed out, a person draped in a black cloak with a white skull mask popped out. Mark could tell the boy wasn't startled in the slightest, but had an appreciation for how he feigned surprise. 

"Like your costume!" He called as they ventured into the next area, tugging Mark along by the hand. 

Ethan thankfully did stop pointing out the hidden actors, and settled for just poking at the props and generally exploring. 

They went through a ruined medical room, a kitchen with fake body parts strewn about, a laboratory, a demonic ritual chamber, and a butcher’s shop before something went wrong.

“Mark,” Ethan mumbled, pulling them farther along through the attraction. The newest room was steel grey, filled with glowing objects and advanced looking props. “There’s a person following us. I don’t think they’re supposed to be here.”

His grip tightened on Ethan’s hand, the other one resting on his hip, where his gun was concealed. He _knew_ he had a right to be suspicious. “Let’s just keep moving.” 

Right as they were about to reach the end, something clamored behind a metal table. 

“ _Mark,_ ” Ethan’s voice was more frantic, glancing behind them with thinly veiled fear. The fact that Ethan seemed _scared_ was more than enough to set him in action. Turning around, he blocked the boy with his body, searching for where they were hiding. “They’re behind the desk, they're-” 

He was cut off when they sprung out, leaping over the table with ease and charging, an object almost like a knife glinting in their grasp. Mark’s hand landed on their forearm, suspending it in air momentarily before throwing them against the props. 

They landed with a clang, devices underneath groaning from the pressure. He could hear Ethan inhale sharply from behind him, releasing the back of his shirt. “Look out!” 

A humming sound filled the air, like something was charging up. 

Mark threw them out of the way as _something_ whizzed by, landing on top of Ethan. 

“Fuck,” He growled, giving the boy an apologetic look before pulling himself off. 

Mess covered part of their body as the blade pointed towards Mark, eyes shining inhumanly, looking triumphant despite the circumstances. 

Pulling out his gun, he lunged, smacking it into the side of their head as he tried to avoid the flailing point of their weapon. 

Their head was pushed to the side, a moment of defenselessness Mark took advantage of, throwing their knife across the room near where they had entered. Before they could react further, he wrapped his arm around their neck, gun pointed at their head, sweat radiating off of them. 

They grinned, canines just a little too sharp, mouth just a little too wide. “You can kill me if you want.. there will always be more. Your _friend_ over there-” Their head jerked towards Ethan, who had pulled himself up into a standing position. “-can’t last forever. He can’t expect-” 

Mark pushed the tip of the gun into their skin, snarling: “Another word and you’re dead.” 

Closing their mouth, they settled for another unsettling smile. 

Before he could react further, security burst into the room, more guns pointing at them. Stepping over the knife with ease, one stood in front of the pair. “Drop your gun.”

* * *

“I’m sorry about causing a mess,” Ethan mumbled, sitting a good foot away from Mark on the bench. 

After they had made a statement, and dealt with a few more probing questions, they were let go to enjoy the rest of the fair. Mark was irritated at the fact they didn’t at least try to shut the part down, even though he knew there was still money to be made.

“It’s okay, Eth, it wasn’t your fault.”

The words from the attacker floated around in his mind, and Mark almost regretted not letting them speak further. But the chance that they were lying was too high, and he’d be damned if he would listen to them slander _his_ Ethan more.

His. 

That thought was new.

Clearing his throat, Mark added: “I figured something would happen, that’s why I was prepared.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“ _You_ could’ve gotten hurt, Ethan, they were after _you.”_

The boy’s hands fidgeted in his lap, still not meeting Mark’s eyes. “They would’ve killed you.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “I don’t care that they want me, it’s been years. I know I’ll be okay. But you-” He looked mournfully at the other man. “-you put yourself in danger for me every day. The past guards, I know they didn’t really care.”

Ethan rested his hand in between the space, staring at the grass beneath them. “They didn’t care like you care. I can’t lose you now. I-”

He stopped, curling his fingers under his palm. 

Mark rested his hand on top, intertwining them together. 

“I know.”

The boy swallowed, letting silence sit for a moment longer. 

“Well, we’ve still got a day ahead of us, and I’m not going to let this ruin our plans. Wanna stop by the market?”

Mark nodded his head, smiling. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are at the halfway point boiz


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: for somewhat detailed descriptions of food, skip to the - if you want to avoid it

The stalls were bustling with activity, people standing around carts filled with colorful foods. Mark stood close to Ethan, resting a hand on the small of his back. “Looking for anything in particular?” 

Shaking his head, the boy moved over to a stand with squash, colored in bright hues of orange and yellow. “Not really, just wantin’ to try some new stuff.” He picked up one of the fruits, turning it around in his hands. “How much for this?”

“Seventy-five cents,” The owner replied, looking back and forth between them. 

He set it down, fishing around in his pocket for the required amount before handing it over. The vendor stuck the fruit into a small brown bag, setting it down on the side of the table the pair were standing. “Here you go, have a good day.” 

Mark followed Ethan to the next stall, eyes drifting from person to person. More people could be seen filtering in near the entrance to the fair, as the sun rose higher in the sky and the temperatures warmed appropriately. 

Despite the incident that had happened a little over an hour ago, Ethan seemed relaxed, engaging and conversing with the people around like he wasn’t just almost murdered. 

“Hey Mark,” The boy in question spoke, drawing Mark’s attention back to him. “Do you prefer wildflower or blackberry honey? I can’t decide between those two.” He motioned to the jars of honey laid out in front of them, with different labels and graphics dereferencing one from another. “We can taste test them too, if you want.” 

“You’re asking me?”

He couldn’t help but be surprised that Ethan was asking for his opinion.  _ He  _ was buying the goods, after all, it didn’t make sense.

“Of course I am,” He huffed, gently elbowing Mark’s side. “You live with me.”

Mark blinked, the realization, while making sense in the context of Ethan, didn’t overall. Nonetheless, he went along with it. “Right. Let’s just try them then, since I don’t think I’ve had either.”

“That’s fair.” The boy nodded, asking the owner for samples of the two he had mentioned. They were handed two small thin baguettes, each with honey spread on top. After tasting both, they unanimously decided on blackberry, Mark stating that the stronger flavor appealed to him more. 

After Ethan had bought a jar, he placed it in the same bag that had the squash. “You’ll help me carry the food when I end up buying a ton, right?”

“Of course.” Mark hummed, watching as Ethan stuck the bag under his arm. “How much more are you planning to get?”

“Whatever looks good to me,” He grinned. 

They trailed around in what eventually turned out to be a large circle, Ethan occasionally picking out baked goods, fruits, vegetables, the list went on. About halfway through the round, the boy ran out of space in his arms, Mark taking care of the rest. 

“C’mon, let’s get these set down somewhere.” Mark spoke, lugging the bags to the nearest empty bench. Ethan followed, setting them down with a thump and sitting on the wood, only panting a little bit. 

Mark sat down next to Ethan, pulling open the first bag.

“What’re you doing?” The boy asked, peeking over to look at the food inside. 

“Checking it.” He pulled out the first item, carefully inspecting it for holes, leaks, and taking off the lid to make sure the seal was still intact. 

He could feel Ethan roll his eyes as he leaned back into his own space, pulling out his phone and starting to scroll. “Let me know when you’re done.”

It took him almost a half an hour to check over every product, being as careful as possible. Although he didn’t go into the fair expecting to find tampered food, he couldn’t exactly risk it after what had happened earlier. The work was monotonous, checking for strange holes in the produce and pastries, making sure the lids and seals were untouched - the usual. 

His mind was allowed to wander to Ethan, foggy thoughts about him and his feelings helping to pass the time. Eventually, the pile of checked things grew larger and larger, until there was nothing left in the former. He’d found nothing out of the ordinary, thankfully.

He put the last bag down, turning to look at the boy next to him. “Okay,”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Mark, I told you I’d be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” He didn’t like going against Ethan’s word, because he  _ knew  _ that he could take care of himself; but it was also Mark’s job to keep him safe. (and also to worry just a little)

“I  _ do,  _ actually.” He stood up, gathering as many of the sacks as he could. “Let’s get these back in the car, so we don’t have to carry them around for the rest of the day.” 

* * *

After they had gotten back into the festival, Ethan had dragged him to a sector they hadn’t yet gotten to. 

“I think it’s a travesty we haven’t played these yet,” Ethan hummed, looking around at the line of different booths. A few isolated stands were scattered around in the area, but the majority were sitting in front of them. 

“Half of those are rigged.” Mark huffed, crossing his arms. 

The boy shrugged, “Isn’t it more about the experience?” His eyes shifted across the lines of hanging plushies. “Although the prizes don’t look half bad either.” 

When Mark realized he wasn’t going to relent, he grumbled to himself as he pulled out his wallet and got out a few twenty's; pushing them into Ethan’s hands. “There. Those things get expensive.” 

His lips twitched, giving Mark a small smile. “So you’re letting me spend yours?”

“..Yeah.” It was the least he could do, after Ethan ended up paying for all of the food both of them would inevitably eat. The guilt over taking the boy’s produce was enough to force his heart to act, no matter how small. 

Expression softening, he stuffed the bills into his pocket. “Okay, but you gotta let me pay you back later.”

“If you want,” The older man shrugged, “I don’t need it, though.” He really didn’t. Risking his life on the daily paid  _ very  _ well. 

“I want to.” Ethan hummed, before stepping up to the first booth - skeeball. 

“Man, the last time I’ve played that was on school field trips.” Mark commented as Ethan handed over a bill, and was given five white tennis-sized balls. 

“Well, I’ve never played it, so don’t spoil the fun for me.” The boy replied, rolling the first one and landing in the ten-point ring. “Damnit.”

Again. 

It landed in the thirty ring, disappearing into the hole. He looked back at Mark, a triumphant grin on his face. “This isn’t too hard.”

The last three landed in the twenty, just not enough to win him one of the hanging plushies. 

Ethan gave the person behind the stall more money, the next time landing in twenty, thirty twice, a forty, and a fifty. He watched in marvel as they handed him the medium size, walking back over to where Mark was standing a few feet away. 

“It almost looks like Spencer,” He smiled, squeezing it against his chest before offering it to the older man. “Could you hold it for me?”

“Yeah, Eth.” Mark took it, tucking it under his arm. “You never had a plush before?”

“Nope. But I intend to get more now, maybe I'll even start a collection." He started off to the next booth, leaving Mark to trail behind him. 

The second game was a ring toss, one that Ethan played multiple rounds of to eventually win the desired plushie - a frog. He carried the large stuffed animal back to Mark, it’s fluff almost entirely covering his face. “I think I did pretty good on that one.”

Mark carried it in both arms, only struggling a little to keep them both from falling. It was almost cute to watch the boy try different games; and inevitably win them. Whatever unnatural senses he possessed seemed to be a large boon in obtaining the prizes, him only having to try a few times before he properly got the hang of it. The pile grew as the day went on, until Mark was almost smothered in stuffed animals. 

“Eth-” He huffed out from behind the fake fur, just barely able to see the top of Ethan’s head.

“Yeah?” 

“How about we just do one more, I don’t think I can carry much else.”

He could almost feel the frown on the boy’s face, before he plucked one near Mark’s face away. “I’ll help you carry them when we’re done, but one more game sounds good to me.” Ethan motioned to the stand they were in front of, with a large wooden sign that read:  **DARTS**

“Darts?”

“Darts.” Ethan hummed, throwing the first one after he had been handed the first round of projectiles. 

Miss. 

He tried again, this time landing on the very edge of the board. 

It went on like that for a while, him buying more darts and not being able to hit the center and obtain the coveted bird plushie. 

“Mark, d’you wanna have a shot?” He turned to the older man, one dart left in between his fingers. “It seems my aim is not the best.”

“If you’re-” He shifted his arms to keep one from falling off of the stack, “-willing to take all of these, sure.” 

Setting the dart on the table, Ethan started the frankly agonizing process of carefully removing around six large stuffed animals without dropping them onto the grass. He managed, but was hit with the same plight Mark had - being unable to see properly. 

Mark’s arms ached just a little as he picked up the object, wringing out his hand in an attempt to try and restore proper feeling to it. Closing his bad eye, he squinted at the board a few feet away and threw it; landing on the red ring just outside the bullseye spot. 

He grimaced, handing over another dollar. Although he was unsure why, he refused to let the game slight him when he was  _ so  _ close to winning. It would be worth it to see Ethan’s reaction. 

Two tries later, he finally hit the small black circle in the center of the board. 

The vendor picked the darts out of the plastic, putting them away and pulling down the largest stuffed animal hanging off of the booth; handing it to Mark and wishing them a good day. 

Turning back to Ethan, he spoke. “I got it.”

“You got it?” 

Mark removed a few of the plushies from Ethan’s stack, so they were equally sharing the burden. “Yeah, see?”

The boy grinned, taking it from Mark and turning it around in his hands. “I knew your aim was good.”

He followed Ethan as he started to the entrance of the festival, quietly listening to him rave about the winnings of the day. 

The warmth enveloping his chest was pointedly ignored, even though Mark knew exactly what they were. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi writing has been slowly lately but take this fluff chapter

When they got back home, Ethan set the plush Mark had won on the couch and took the rest up to his room, to be scattered around the house at a later date. After he had come back down, he had curled up with Spencer on said couch, fiddling with the game system as he looked for something to do. 

Mark had lingered around the kitchen, before the boy had made an annoyed sound and told him to come sit down. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Ethan spoke up a few hours later, saving and quitting from the game. “Or somethin’, I dunno, even though I’m tired from walking around all day and ‘m not tired enough to sleep yet.” 

After they had playfully argued over the choice of film, they had finally settled on something both had seen before and enjoyed.

They had sat in a comfortable silence for a while, occasionally quipping or pointing out parts they thought were funny. Ethan had slowly been growing more and more quiet, until he finally spoke up. 

“You really don’t have to worry about me so much, Mark.” Ethan murmured, pulling up his legs and crossing them under himself. “I know it’s your job, but I promise I’ll be okay.”

The older man sighed, tiredly watching Ethan’s movements. “I know.. but that’s not gonna stop me from doing it.”

“Your employers wouldn’t find out,” The boy tilted his head, giving him a inquisitive look. “I don’t see the issue?” 

Mark huffed, mimicking the other’s motions so they were both fully on the couch. “I really don’t give a damn about what they want very much. I mean, the job security is nice and all, and I like doing what I do; I just-”

He inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. 

“I dunno.”

Ethan sighed, scooting a few inches over and bumping their legs together; giving Mark a quick glance. 

“I guess I understand, maybe.”

The boy swallowed. 

“I care for you too. Even though I think your job is  _ incredibly _ stupid-”

Mark made a noise of protest, gently shushed by a hum from the other. 

“-Let me finish. I respect it, and I know I haven’t exactly made it easy for you. But thank you for sticking with me.”

A small smile twitched on Mark’s face before he replied. “Of course, Eth.” Because yes, even though he  _ could  _ technically quit, he wouldn’t; at least not while they were still figuring themselves out. 

The events of the day drifted through his thoughts, and when his mind wandered back to the haunted house, he couldn’t help but wonder out loud: “What was up with that.. them?”

Ethan frowned at the mention of them. "They’re always like that. It's not like I know them personally, at least. They're kinda just like everyone else out to get me." 

He didn't offer up anything else about it. 

"Will you explain it all to me?" 

Mark didn't have to specify about what, a quiet question he was almost too afraid to ask. 

The boy sighed, moving closer and tentatively resting his back against Mark's chest. "I will. I'm just not quite ready yet. Y'know, I don't want you to look at me differently or anything." 

Automatically curling his arms around Ethan’s waist, he replied: "I would never. You're still Ethan, no matter what, yeah? It doesn't matter if you're… a little less than human."

While Mark could see  _ why  _ the fact mattered, most of his indifference still remained. Ethan walked like a person, talked like a person, and maybe he was just oblivious as hell but he would’ve never guessed. Sure, he could act a  _ little  _ weird at times, but who wasn’t a little weird?

He wasn’t sure where he was going with that train of thought. 

The heat from Ethan’s body slowly melded with his own, warming him better than a blanket ever could. His heart fluttered in the now-familiar way, breath catching in his throat. 

Ethan broke the short-lived silence, tilting his head up so he could barely meet Mark’s eyes momentarily. “Right.. still me.”

He placed his head on Mark’s chest, looking lazily at the tv.

“I never meant to l- to like a human.”

Mark’s lips twitched into a smile. “Should I be insulted?” 

“No."

They sat like that for a while longer, breathing against the other and staring at the bright moving colors on the screen. 

  
  


Ethan shifted in his arms, slowly turning himself around so they were facing again. His face was scarily blank, but the way he moved - slowly and unconfident - betrayed how he really felt. “Do you want this?

Mark’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t want to hope too much just yet. “This?” He parroted.

The boy grumbled, pushing himself up so their eyes were level. He motioned between them. “ _ This.” _

“Oh.” Mark caught on. Although he still had fears and worries about his job, they seemed to sit in the back of his mind instead of the front. It didn’t seem important at the moment. “Yes.” 

“O-Okay,” Ethan mumbled, a slightly-shaking hand cupping his face before he pressed their lips together. He was hesitant, with slow movements, like he was afraid it’d scare Mark away.

The older man let out a soft sigh, eyes falling shut and a hand coming up to rest in the base of Ethan’s fluffy hair. 

It felt like coming home after a long day, like returning to your house after a long vacation. It was good.

But before he could react further, Ethan was pulling away, with a flushed red face and averted eyes. “I’m not sure why I’m so nervous.” He huffed, biting his lip. “You still want this?”

“Please.” Mark murmured, leaning into the pale hand still sitting on his face. 

Then they were kissing again, and it was even better than the last time. Mark could feel Ethan’s nerves slip away, as they pressed closer against the other and entangling their legs. 

The only thing his brain could think of was  _ Ethan Ethan Ethan,  _ emitting a strong emotion in his chest. It was all encompassing, taking over seemingly everything. (He couldn’t complain about it if he wanted to.)

Ethan moved away first, panting loud enough that Mark could hear. “I’m never gonna want to let you go now.”

“Who says you have to?” Mark hummed, a stupid grin on his face. “You’re stuck with me. We’ll figure out the rest later.” 

The boy’s hand drifted down to Mark’s forearms, letting his body lean in as he tucked his head under the man’s chin. “Sweet-talker.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.” Ethan replied, voice muffled by Mark’s shirt. “But you also need to sleep now. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you took a day off from it.” 

The older man huffed out a laugh. “You never seem to forget about that, don’t you?”

“Nope.” Mark could feel the grin even if he couldn’t see it. “If you won’t remind yourself, I will.” Pulling back, Ethan gave the other a quick peck on the lips before pushing himself off of Mark and the couch; giving him a knowing look. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

He followed without much of a fight, trudging up the stairs behind Ethan and into the boy’s room. 

Taking Mark’s hand, he led them into the bathroom connecting to the bedroom. “Let me know when you’re done, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink.”

Right. 

  
  
  


Ethan practically fell into Mark’s arms from where he was laying on top of the duvet, worming his arms around the other’s back. “Pull up the covers, will you? It’s cold.” He huffed.

Mark did as he was asked, shifting them around until they were almost completely covered. The combined warmth from the cloth and the boy laying on top of him made him feel like a furnace - but he wasn’t about to complain. 

“Thanks, for this.” Ethan murmured, pressing his nose into the crook of Mark’s neck. “It’s really nice.”

The older man rubbed mindless patterns onto Ethan’s back, finally letting himself soak up the moment. “G’night.”

“Night, Mark.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowowow sorry for the super short chapter LMAO. it's been a slow process.  
> this bit fit nicely enough into its own (quick) chapter n I wanted to give u guys smth since I'm not as quick writing lately.

_The tall grass in the distance waved in time to the breeze, an endless expanse of field and wheat._

_Mark’s shoes crunched against the stalks, somehow already flattened against the ground._

_Why could he see?_

_There were no moon, or stars, just black._

_Inky black sky._

_But still, his surroundings were illuminated with an unnatural white glow._

_A strange sense of calm sat over him._

_He wasn’t sure from what._

_Continuing his way through the now-clear field, he looked around, finding himself in the middle of a large circle._

_Walking silenced, it was quiet, save for the occasional whistle of the wind._

_His place._

_Why?_

_Body moving without command, he sat down on the dry plants._

_He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there_

_A light lit up momentarily in the horizon, gone within the moment._

_Low humming filled the air, the grass closest to him trembling._

_The light burst in the sky, near enough that Mark could make out the dark shape of an object before it dissipated again._

_He wasn’t alone._

_Although Mark could no longer see it, he could feel its presence - cold, but eerily comforting._

_Letting himself slowly tip onto his back, he propped his head up against his hands._

_The dark above was empty, almost begging him to try and find something he could tether his eyes to._

_A blank form lurked on the edges of his vision, watching him._

_He couldn’t run._

_He should run._

_Didn’t want to run._

_Mark heard his voice filling the air, but it didn’t come from him._

_“I’m not afraid of you.”_

_The form hummed, the same vibrations he had felt before; only softer and more condensed._

_Laugher._

_It-_

_They._

_They moved closer, settling themselves close enough to Mark he could feel it._

_A pause._

_“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”_

_They spoke, voice familiar._

_But Mark couldn’t place where he had heard it previously._

_“What is?” He heard himself respond._

_“This. You.” Their arms brushed together, as they motioned to the empty sky above. “Do you miss them? The lights?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Mark could feel them watching him._

_“Of course you do.”_

_They clasped their hand with his, a feeling he could almost recognize._

_“Do you want to see?”_

_Mark felt his head nod._

_-_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. regrettably I have been slipping from the fandom, and I'm not sure if I'll end up completing the fic I started a while ago that only has one chapter so far. or if I do, it will be very slow and more as a side project than anything I'm too committed to.
> 
> but I am committed to finishing this beast. so enjoy the few more chapters left :]

_ “I.. -- - ---- -he stars.” _

* * *

The first thing Mark could feel was a chill, like someone had lifted up the duvet and let the air inside. It made him curl into himself, burrowing further into the sheets. 

He wasn’t fully aware until a little bit later, when he finally forced his eyes to open and peer into the dark room. 

Something was missing.

Gears slowly turned in his head as he felt himself slowly wake up, the smaller feelings - or lack of - in the room was almost overwhelming his senses. 

_ Ethan.  _

He had a feeling that although the space wasn’t familiar to him yet, if he allowed their budding relationship to continue, it soon would be. But the second occupant of said space was missing. 

Now, Mark normally wasn’t quick to panic. He prided himself on his rational thinking, and how well he was at keeping his emotions in check. 

..most of the time. 

Now was not one of those times.

The uncomfortable feeling of panic squeezed at his heart, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to slowly regain his composure; pulling himself into a sitting position. He could barely see the duvet in front of him, let alone the rest of the room. That factor was  _ not  _ helping. 

“Ethan?” He called out, cringing at how raspy his voice sounded. 

_ How long had he been asleep? _

When there was no reply, Mark found his grip tightening on the cloth. After taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off of the bed; feet quietly thumping on the floor.

A moment of fumbling later, and he had retrieved his phone that had been residing on the nightstand. The light of its screen was temporarily blinding, white light piercing through the man’s eyelids. 

He could feel his breath return to an almost normal level as he checked the time. 

_ 6:54 AM _

It was around the normal time he’d get up, on the rare occasion that he did end up sleeping. So it was easy enough to justify looking for Ethan. 

If his brain was thinking normally -  _ rationally, which it wasn’t -  _ Mark probably would’ve realized that the likelihood of his temporary housemate being kidnapped was extremely low. Astronomically low.

Miniscule.

But it was morning, and his brain was tired, and such thoughts did not occur in his head.  He turned on the phone’s dim flashlight, letting the beam illuminate the floor in front of him, almost like a horror game. 

Maneuvering out of the bedroom, he found himself in the similarly dark hallway. He shone the light to the stairwell, shadows quickly scurrying away from the luminosity. It almost felt like he was floating, as he walked down the hall and trudged down the stairs. His mind felt foggy, and the edges of his vision would blur if he moved too quickly. 

The panic, while not completely subsided, sat quietly in the back; urging him forward and into the dark. He didn’t like how much it felt like  _ care.  _

Because he did care for Ethan. 

He  _ really  _ needed some coffee. 

His eyes were immediately drawn to the dim microwave light coming from the kitchen, and he quietly shut off the flashlight. 

A familiar silhouette was sitting at the center island, back turned away from Mark. He immediately knew who it was, even in his groggy mind. 

“Hey, Eth.” He murmured, softer than the last time he spoke. “You’re up early.”

When the other turned to look at him, Mark could feel the last remnants of his almost-panic attack fade into the morning. He had a slight smile on his face, not appearing tired despite the hour.”

“Sorry if I scared you, I needed a bite to eat.” He shrugged apologetically, shifting his shoulder so Mark could see the empty paper place in front of him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The man shook his head, walking over and resting his elbows against the counter. “It’s okay, I’d normally be getting up around this time anyway. 

Ethan nodded. “I shouldn’t be surprised.. but I am going back to sleep for a few more hours after this, so. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s not my sleep schedule.”

“True. You want some coffee? I’m sure you won’t be going back to bed.”

Mark sat down at the nearest chair, the mention of caffeine making him perk up a little bit. “Yes, please.”

He let his mind wander as Ethan moved around the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee-maker until it started to hum. Getting a mug out of the nearest cupboard, the boy sat it down in front of Mark. “Here, it shouldn't be too long now.”

When the steaming liquid was poured into the mug, Mark greedily wrapped his hands around it and took a drink. Years of drinking it had made him a  _ lot  _ more resistant to the burn, and it was almost more satisfying than painful. “Thank you, Eth.”

While Mark couldn’t be certain from the low light, it appeared as though a light dusting of pink sat on Ethan’s face, a smile that was probably more giddy than embarrassed below it. “It’s no problem, really.”

His heart churned happily in his chest, and he could almost feel the beats in his ears.  _ He was too far gone. _

But he didn’t mention his internal dilemma, instead nursing the cup in his hands as Ethan tidied up the kitchen a bit, before promising to be awake in a bit, and disappearing back upstairs. 

Mark followed soon after, when his mind quieted back to a state he was comfortable with. He wasn’t going to watch the other man  _ sleep,  _ he wasn’t that creepy, he’d just hang out in the office and edit on the computer. 

He poked his head through the bedroom while he passed, a far-too-mushy expression on his face as he saw the lump of covers that undoubtedly contained Ethan underneath. 

And although he couldn’t exactly pinpoint  _ when  _ it had happened, maybe the kiss on the couch, or their pseudo-date at the fair, or the walk in the morning; Mark couldn’t tell. All he knew is that the feelings were most definitely there now, and not going away anytime soon. 

He was almost curious if he could survive the inevitable separation, now.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr](https://chilledlime.tumblr.com/)

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